


Needing You

by hawk_soaring



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:05:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawk_soaring/pseuds/hawk_soaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a Bond is tested?  It all started innocently enough – but where did it lead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needing You

Title: Needing You  
Author: Hawk  
Fandom: The Sentinel  
Pairing: Jim/ Blair  
Rating: FRAO  
Prompt: needing you (for Terry): “Jim/Blair in Sentinel would be my favorites, with Jim bottom and more vulnerable than Blair. But not a wuss. Jim is my favorite of that pairing. Slash better than gen, h/c definitely, but romance is nice too. And angst.”

A/N: A huge thank you to Annie for beta-ing this for me.

Summary: What happens when a Bond is tested? It all started innocently enough – but where did it lead?

  
~*~*~

Pain was his world. The sun was too bright, the voices too loud and the air tasted of old cigarettes, stale coffee and day old stomach gas. The smells exploded on his tongue and made him gag. Stumbling against the onslaught, he pulled the collar of his winter coat higher, flinching as it scraped his face raw. His breath fogged in the cold, damp air and he knew he should feel the cold but he was warm – too warm. Briefly, he thought of ditching the coat but knew it would attract too much attention to him so he kept it on and suffered through what felt like the heat of a mid-summer’s day.

Pushing through the doors, he nodded to the officer manning the front desk before dipping his chin and shouldering his way through the ever-present throng of people milling about in the precinct lobby. It wasn’t until he reached the isolated safety of the elevator that he realized he’d been holding his breath against the stench of the bodies milling around. He stabbed the button for the third floor repeatedly, gasping in a breath of relatively clean air when the doors finally closed and sagging against the wall of the elevator car.

It was getting harder and harder to get through each day and he didn’t know how much longer he could stand the sensory overload. He’d been through this before when he’d been separated from his partner for long periods of time, but it had never been this bad. What was most troubling, however, was that this separation had only been going on for four days. Four days out of ten.

The dinging of the elevator as it settled on the third floor brought him out of his self-pitying reverie and he straightened his shoulders as the doors opened, spilling him out into the hustle and bustle of a busy precinct. By the time he shouldered open the doors to Major Crimes he was sure his head was going to explode and his partner would come home in six days to a funeral. In the next breath he thought he could only be so lucky as another stab of pain shot through him as Joel walked by and slapped him lightly on the shoulder in greeting. Smiling grimly, he plodded over to his desk and pulled the top folder out of his in box. Six days – and counting.

A little while later someone set a cup of coffee at his elbow and he flinched from the pat to his shoulder before mumbling a thank you, not lifting his head or acknowledging the whispered comments about his appearance. Losing himself in the case files seemed to be the only way to shut off his hypersensitivity so he was going to take full advantage of it while he could. Simon had been kicking him out at night after someone apparently mentioned that he’d been working well into the early morning hours.

He was so engrossed in his files it wasn’t until Simon hollered for him to “get in here” for the second time that the words actually registered and he looked up. A growled “now” quickly followed and he pushed to his feet, ignoring the concerned glances of his co-workers as he trudged into Simon’s office. The door slammed loudly and he flinched, instinctively putting his hands over his ears to deafen the sound.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Simon asked

Leaning back in the chair with a forced nonchalant air, he smirked up at Simon. “I don’t know what you mean, Captain.”

“Can the crap, Sandburg. I know something is going on with you. Now spill.” Simon quirked an eyebrow. “Or do I have to call Jim?”

Blair sat forward quickly. “No, you can’t!”

Simon smirked. “So there is something wrong. I knew it.”

Blair sighed in aggravation as he shook his head. “Simon, I’m fine – really.”

It had taken another few minutes of pouring on the Sandburg charm for Simon to finally relent, albeit not gracefully, and let him get back to work. The feeling of someone watching him never quite went away all day, though, and long before he was ready to leave Simon was telling him to go home. Meeting the captain’s eyes for the first time since the morning, he realized that Simon was serious. With a soft sigh, he shouldered his backpack and left.

The next day was infinitely harder than the last and yet he soldiered on, teaching two classes at the university before heading to the precinct just after lunch and working on Jim’s case files.

Jim had been sent to a conference in Los Angeles and Megan had gone along. Blair was close to finally getting his doctorate and he couldn’t afford to be away from the university for any length of time. Megan was a passable substitute Guide for the Sentinel so it was thought that Jim would be fine. No one had given any thought to the Guide. This was the first time they had been parted since the bonding and the first time that Blair had any inkling of what the bond had done to him.

When Blair had realized what was happening, he stopped taking Jim’s calls. Jim left him loving messages on his voice mail, both at work and at the loft and Blair felt very guilty for not answering him, but he knew that Jim would hear the stress in his voice and start asking questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

Blair called Simon on day six and told him that he needed to cover an extra class for a colleague. He told the university that he had to work an extra shift at the precinct. Getting out of bed was too much trouble so he simply pulled the sentinel-soft sheet up to his neck and buried his face in Jim’s pillow. Inhaling deeply, he let his thoughts wander. Maybe, if he were very lucky, he would actually get some sleep. Thus far he hadn’t been able to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time since his partner had walked out of the loft, Simon driving him and Megan to the airport since Blair was due at Rainier for an early morning lecture.

Blair didn’t call anyone on day seven. In some basic way he knew that night had come and gone but he couldn’t remember why that was important or what he needed to do. He blinked up at the skylight as the sky lightened and wondered why he felt so weak. Vaguely he thought maybe he’d been ill. Surely Jim would be home soon and then he would take care of him.

At some point he heard the phone ring and then Jim’s voice filled the loft, telling the caller that no one was home. Blair smiled slightly but decided he wouldn’t tell anyone that Jim had told a little white lie. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to anyone now. Blair waited patiently for Jim to come upstairs and a tear fell when silence descended on the loft and he remembered that Jim was away. He must have imagined hearing Jim’s voice.

~*~*~

“How’s he doing?”

There was a sigh at the other end of the phone and Simon grimaced in sympathy.

“That good, huh?” he growled softly.

Megan chuckled softly. “Even worse, sir. I thought I could handle it. I have before! But this time is different. He’s come close to zoning on so many occasions that I’m afraid to leave him alone and, since Blair stopped taking his calls it has only gotten worse. I’m not sure he can handle the entire ten days.”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and trying in vain to quell his raising ire. It wasn’t Jim’s fault that this trip was getting to him and he couldn’t blame him for not being able to handle things away from his Bonded Guide. No, Simon placed the blame entirely on the Bureau of Sentinel Affairs.

“Bring him home,” he growled, only hanging up the phone after assuring Megan that he would make excuses for her and Jim missing the last days of the conference.

Simon sat at his desk a few more minutes before pushing himself to his feet and opening the door to his office. “Sandburg!” he called out. Looking around the suddenly quiet bullpen, he noted the pair of empty desks where Blair Sandburg should have been ensconced, catching up on old case files while his partner was away. He next noticed that no one would meet his probing gaze and he growled under his breath. “Where the hell is Sandburg?” he snapped.

Detective Rafe hunched over his desk, staring down at the papers in front of him as if his life depended on him not making eye contact – and maybe he was right because if he didn’t get an answer soon…

“He – didn’t come in this afternoon, sir.”

Simon turned from his perusal of Rafe and lifted an eyebrow. “He didn’t come in?” he repeated.

Joel squared his shoulders and shook his head. “No.”

“And you didn’t think to bring this fact to my attention?”

Joel shrugged, obviously trying for nonchalance yet barely missing it as he licked his lips nervously. “Hairboy doesn’t always come in when he’s supposed to. You hear Jim chewing him out for it all the time. I didn’t think anything of it.”

Simon nodded grimly, knowing that Joel wasn’t telling the absolute truth about not worrying about Blair. It was pretty obvious that both he and Rafe had thought something was wrong but weren’t worried enough to look into it. In fact, they had probably thought that he would be angry with Blair for not coming in so decided not to bring it to his attention.

“Well, call him,” Simon growled. “Try the loft and his cell. If you don’t get him, call the university. I want to know where he is – now.”

Simon turned away and stalked back into his office, slamming the door loudly before putting a hand to his face and wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out on his forehead. Blair hadn’t been feeling well all week. He’d been trying to hide it, but Simon knew something was wrong. “Why the hell didn’t I push him?” He sighed loudly and crossed to his desk. “Jim is going to kill me if something happened to his Guide.”

Two hours later Simon found himself standing in front of the door to the loft. Raising his hand, he knocked on the door, giving Blair a few minutes to answer before using his spare key to open the door.

Joel and Rafe had tried calling Blair at home and at his office at Rainier but had gotten no response. The secretary of the Anthropology Department at Rainier told them that Blair had missed his morning lecture and hadn’t called in. When Simon heard the news, he headed for the loft. He’d thought about calling Jim first but realized that he was probably already in the air and he wouldn’t be able to reach him. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with a distraught Sentinel – even if it was just over the phone.

Using his key to let himself into the loft was Simon’s last resort. Jim had given him the key years ago – back when he was an unbonded Sentinel and his senses were all over the scale. Simon had accepted the key, promising Jim that he would use it only if he thought Jim was in trouble and needed him. He was using it now because he thought Jim’s Guide was in trouble – Jim’s Bonded Guide. If something happened to Blair now, Jim would most likely wind up in an institution. He only hoped Jim understood the invasion of their privacy.

~*~*~

Megan sighed as she looked out the window of the airplane. Reaching over, she cupped Jim’s face gently and then blinked away unbidden tears. Drugging him had been a last resort but, in his condition, the airline wouldn’t allow him to fly. As it was, she’d had to use subterfuge to get the drugs into his system and she knew he was going to be royally pissed at her when he woke.

A gentle hand on her shoulder startled her and Megan turned quickly, looking up into the smiling face of a flight attendant.

“Is he okay?” the young woman asked.

Megan nodded, pasting a small smile on her face. “Yes, he seems to be handling it well. Thank you.”

The flight attendant nodded and let her gaze wander to where Jim slept on, unaware of the goings on around him, before looking at Megan again. “Will you be waiting until after the rest of the passengers disembark before waking him?”

Megan thought about her options for a few seconds. She could wake Jim just as they touched down, but knew that with the sensitivity of his hearing the past few days he probably wouldn’t be able to handle the whine of the engines and the grinding of the brakes. Her second choice was to wake him as they taxied to the gate, allowing him a few minutes to fully wake before the passengers disembarked. Disembarking tended to get very noisy, with people milling in the aisles, suitcases being retrieved from the overhead compartments, and people talking to each other and on their cell phones as they tried to locate their friends and family before they even left the airplane.

Registered Sentinels were automatically upgraded to first class, the extra seating room and the lower ambient sound levels being more soothing to the usually frayed senses. Flying was not something a Sentinel was usually very comfortable with, the setting and the unusual scents and sounds being very disturbing to them. If a Sentinel had to fly, it was mandatory that they be accompanied by a Guide, whether their own, if Matched or Bonded, or a temporary one from the Guild. A Sentinel in distress, by law, had to be sedated. Many times it took deception to accomplish this since no Sentinel would admit they weren’t at peak form in all situations.

Megan was pretty sure Jim was going to be pissed that he’d been sedated – without his consent. She did the only thing she could do and smiled up at the flight attendant. “I think we’ll wait to wake him until the rest of the passengers have disembarked. Will that be okay?”

The flight attendant smiled and nodded. “That will be fine,” she said before turning and walking away.

Megan watched her go and bit back a groan as her face flamed in embarrassment. She knew the flight attendants, the pilot, and copilot had been informed of Jim’s presence. She also knew they were aware that he hadn’t wanted to be sedated. Waking him after the plane was emptied would, hopefully, spare everyone but her, his wrath.

~*~*~

Jim was still sullen as they disembarked the airplane. He growled under his breath as Megan asked him yet again if he wanted or needed a wheelchair. While the drugs made him dizzy and left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth (which he always found strange since the drugs were administered by injection) there was no way he was going to be wheeled out of the airport like some invalid. Brushing off Megan’s offers of help and pathetically inept attempts at apology, Jim stalked through the crowded airport, eager to be free of the stench and roar of the milling people.

Without turning around, Jim was aware of Megan pushing through the crowd at his back and he barely held back a snort of laughter. She was not only shorter than he was but she was also wearing heels. The totally pissed off part of him hoped she had blisters by the time they retrieved their luggage and their car.

It shouldn’t have surprised him when Megan stepped in front of him when he tried to open the driver’s side door of their car, but it did and he stopped short, tipping his head to stare down at her. Giving her his most intimidating stare, Jim growled, “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Megan squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. It was her ‘don’t fuck with me’ look and Jim inwardly cringed even as he stared her down. Her biting retort of, “Driving. Sedated Sentinels are not allowed to operate a motor vehicle for six hours post waking,” should have stopped him but his anger overrode his common sense and he snorted.

“I don’t fucking think so,” he snapped.

Megan simply smiled up at him. “Would you rather go to the Institute then?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I would have thought you’d want to go home – to your Guide.”

At the mere mention of Blair, Jim stilled, scenting the air automatically. His Guide wasn’t nearby – but he was closer than he had been mere hours earlier – and Jim needed to see him, to touch him, to scent him. They had been apart for far too long.

Knowing that Megan was using his Sentinel abilities against him did nothing for his mood and he barely stopped himself from planting the keys right between her eyes. Taking a deep breath, Jim pulled the keys from his pocket and handed them to Megan, ignoring her knowing smirk as he walked around the car and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Buckle up, Ellison,” Megan said as she turned the key in the ignition. “I’ll get you home to Sandy as quick as I can.”

Jim’s head was pounding from all the sensory input of the airport and he gave up all pretense of being the man in charge as he laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He barely noticed as Megan pulled out of the parking spot and began the trip to the loft.

~*~*~

Simon paced the lower level of the loft, listening to the soft footsteps going up and down the stairs. Jim was going to kill him.

When Simon heard a soft sound, he looked up, seeing a tall, thin man slowly walking down the stairs. His long cassock dragged on the stairs behind him and his hands were tucked into his belled sleeves. In whole, the picture was one of a priest or a monk and Simon had to forcefully shake the image from his mind.

“He’s sleeping,” the man said softly, as if afraid his voice would carry and wake the man upstairs.

Simon let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “Thank God,” he murmured. When he had let himself into the apartment earlier that afternoon, he’d seen no one. Wondering just where Blair could possibly be if he hadn’t shown up for work either at the university or at the precinct, he called out. A soft rustling sound alerted him to someone’s presence in the loft and he pulled his gun out of its holster as he looked around. Once he had ascertained that no one was in the immediate vicinity, he started up the stairs to the loft bedroom, keeping his back against the wall and letting his gaze roam around the vacant space at his feet. After a few steps, he looked upward, craning his neck to see into the bedroom area. A mop of dark curls was fanned out across a pillow, the comforter on the bed forming a vaguely man-shaped lump.

“Blair,” he breathed softly. Once upstairs, he had softly repeated Blair’s name once again. Getting no response, he gently reached out to shake the younger man awake. When even that elicited no response, he’d made the phone call.

“Captain Banks?”

Simon blinked, realizing that the man standing in front of him had obviously been talking to him and he’d missed it because of his ruminations. “Sorry? What is it, Doctor?”

Dr. Cowles took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. Simon resisted the urge to smile, instead biting the inside of his cheek sharply to keep his mirth inside. Laughing at a physician of the Guild, especially one who had been called out on an emergency was not a smart thing to do. Being censured by the Guild or, worse, by the Department of Sentinel Affairs could and most probably would end his career.

“Guide Blair is sleeping now but he looks as if he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in quite a few days. Personally, I would like to admit him to the infirmary at the Guild House so we may better monitor his condition.”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache he could feel beginning. “Is that a mandatory directive?” he finally asked.

Dr. Cowles drew himself up to his full height, which was just shy of Simon’s own towering stature, and stared into Simon’s eyes. After a moment, he broke eye contact and shook his head. “No, I will not make it a mandatory directive at this point, in light of what you told me about his Sentinel returning home today. What I will mandate, however, is a full physical at the Guild House in three days. If, in the interim, he seems to be ill or is not getting the rest he needs, I expect him to be brought to the infirmary immediately.”

Simon nodded. “Fair enough.” He took a deep breath. “So, how do you know that Blair is merely sleeping?” he asked after a moment. “I wasn’t able to rouse him before I called the Guild.”

A small smile twitched at the corners of Dr. Cowles’ lips before he visibly sobered again. “I, too, am a Guide, Captain Banks. Although I am not a level eight as is Guide Blair, I have enough ability to ascertain that Guide Blair is sleeping deeply. He is not in a coma, nor has he been sedated. Instead, he reads as merely profoundly exhausted.”

Simon felt relief run through him and only then did he realize how tense he’d been since he’d found Blair. “Thank you, Dr. Cowles.”

The physician inclined his head and turned, clucking softly to his attendant and then heading to the door. The attendant pulled the door open, standing aside so the Guide Physician could leave, before turning and bowing to Simon.

Simon watched them walk away and then put his hand over his face, breathing deeply. Blair would be okay. Jim, therefore, wouldn’t kill him when he arrived home. As he straightened his shoulders he lifted his head to see why he hadn’t heard the door close.

Jim was standing in the doorway, looking the worse for wear as he leaned with one hand against the frame. Megan peeked around him, staring wide-eyed into the loft.

“What the hell is going on?” Jim rasped.

~*~*~

Jim opened his eyes as he heard the car shut off, cracking his eyes open to see Megan pulling the keys from the ignition.

“We’re here,” she said unnecessarily and Jim nodded once before unfastening his seatbelt and climbing from the car. As he stepped up onto the curb he paused, closing his eyes to shut out the extraneous sensory input and tilting his head slightly. There it was: the sound of his Guide’s heart beating. Taking a deep breath, Jim opened his eyes, his sight sharpening to a level he hadn’t been able to achieve since the plane landed in California seven days previously.

Jim looked around, scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary. When his gaze lit on the nondescript tan van parked three cars up from Megan’s he stilled, staring at the vehicle for a long minute before taking a deep breath and then looking up at the building he was standing in front of: 852 Prospect Street. Something was going on and he needed to get inside and find out just what it was. The van, while not marked, most definitely belonged to the Guild. His Guide could be in trouble or compromised in some way.

“We need to get inside – now,” Jim growled as he started for the building.

Bypassing the elevator, Jim took the stairs at nearly a run, getting to his loft just as the door opened and a physician in traditional Guild garb stepped out into the hallway. Jim stopped suddenly, hearing Megan grumble behind him before she stepped up to stand beside him.

“What the—?”

Jim merely stared as the physician stepped out and stood in front of him, inclining his head slightly before nodding once.

“Blair?” Jim gasped, reaching his senses out once again to ascertain the wellbeing of his Guide for himself.

“He is waiting for you, Sentinel Ellison.” Without another word, Dr. Cowles walked past Jim and Megan, trailed by his assistant.

Jim stepped into the doorway and met Simon’s startled gaze.

“Jim!” Simon said sounding surprised to see him.

“Simon,” Jim growled, his hands fisted at his side. “Where is my Guide?”

Simon stepped back, lifting his hands in front of him. Jim could see Simon’s empty hands and knew his captain was telling him he was unarmed and not dangerous to either Jim or Blair, but Jim’s first instinct was to rend Simon limb from limb before going to see his Guide, probably stepping in Simon’s entrails as he passed. Simon nodded in the direction of the stairs. “Upstairs – in bed.”

Jim growled and walked around Simon, stalking to the stairs and taking them two at a time. As he reached the top of the stairs, his Guide opened his eyes, blinking slowly. As their gazes met, Jim growled – a low, needy sound and, when Blair lifted his arm, reaching out toward the Sentinel, Jim staggered over to the bedside, dropping to his knees and laying his head beside his Guide. Trembling fingers petted through his short hair, massaging his sensitive scalp and sending shock waves of pure lust straight to his thrumming cock.

“Need you,” Jim said softly, whimpering when warm dry lips were pressed against his head. “Need you, Chief.”

~*~*~

Blair bit back a gasp as a tingle spread up his arm. He could feel his Empathy settling as Jim’s senses returned to normal. The tingle spread, morphing into a deep warmth that covered his entire body. He took a deep breath, this time scenting nothing but clean air – and his Sentinel.

“Come up here, Jim,” Blair invited. Blair lay perfectly still as Jim got to his feet and climbed up onto the bed beside him. He waited until Jim stretched out beside him, feeling Jim’s body pressed the length of his, and he wanted nothing more than to feel his naked skin pressing against his. Sometimes blankets were more trouble than they were worth.

As he shifted toward Jim, Blair felt his Sentinel stiffen and Jim’s arm tightened around him. “Please,” Jim whispered, his voice breaking to a sob on the word.

Blair continued to pet Jim for a few minutes, feeling his Sentinel calm, his senses settle. Blair’s empathy began to hum in rhythm with his Sentinel’s senses and he took a deep breath, realizing that this was the first time since Jim had left for the airport that he actually felt “good”.

“What the hell happened to us?” he murmured, continuing to pet Jim’s head. Something was “off” from the norm for Sentinel/ Guide pairs – even Bonded ones. Something had changed between them and Blair was at a loss as to what had caused it. Closing his eyes, he thought back to his Guide studies. Thinking back, he remembered reading something once, in a tale from the aboriginal tribes of Peru. It had been considered by his professors to be a “fairy tale”. Nothing like it had ever been seen and the Guild House had catalogued thousands of Sentinel/ Guide pairs. The story was of a Claiming – a soul bond so deep that if one of the pair was hurt, the other felt the pain. If one died, the other followed their mate into death. “When?” he whispered, knowing in his heart that he and Jim were Bonded soul-deep. But when exactly had it happened?

Jim stirred against his side and Blair kissed the top of his head again. After a minute, Jim lifted his head a little, tilting his face up so he was looking at Blair. Blair watched as Jim squirmed for a moment before smiling and telling his Sentinel to get undressed.

“Is everything okay up there?”

Blair saw Jim startle, turning quickly to look over the edge of the loft. “E-everything’s fine, Simon. You can go now.” Blair watched as the flush crept up his Sentinel’s chest and face.

“You’re sure?”

Blair stifled a laugh as Jim nodded. “Yes, Simon. We’re good.”

A sigh sounded from the room below. “Okay then. We’re leaving.”

Blair waited until he heard the front door close before he chuckled. Jim’s eyes immediately tracked to his own and he grinned up at his mate. “Strip,” he said softly.

Jim swallowed convulsively as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

“Slowly,” Blair said. “Relax.” He watched as Jim got to his knees, his fingers trembling slightly as he moved to unbutton his shirt. Blair smiled wondrously as he realized he could ‘feel’ Jim’s nervousness on a deeper level than mere empathy. This was definitely a new development in his and Jim’s Bond.

When he’d first been discovered, Blair had tested as a Level Ten Empath. The Guild physicians had been dumbfounded. Only one other Level Ten had ever been found – and he’d self-destructed long before they had ever found a compatible Sentinel to mate him with. That Blair had only been discovered after reaching puberty spoke volumes about his capacity to shield himself from stray bursts of emotion. That he survived the Guild training as a Level Ten Empath, officially becoming Guide without losing his mind spoke even more. Finding his Sentinel after all of that had been mere icing on the cake, so to speak. Sentinels able to Bond with a Level Ten Empath Guide were almost as rare as the Guide himself and finding an unbonded one in Cascade had been nothing short of miraculous.

He and Jim had hit it off almost immediately, becoming fast friends almost before the ink was dry on the official Sentinel/ Guide Match paperwork. Blair had moved into Jim’s loft the same day the papers were signed and into the small room under the stairs. About three months later, they were Bonded, the surface bond of a working Pair having settled into a deeper level of ‘knowing’ between the two men. It was sometime in the middle – between when Blair had moved in and when the Bonding was complete – that he’d moved into the bedroom upstairs, taking his rightful place at Jim’s side even at night. After that, their Bond seemed to settle in quickly and their work at the precinct surpassed even what the more liberal Professors of Sentinel Studies thought they should be able to achieve.

Blair pulled his thoughts back to matters at hand as Jim knelt up on the bed, his fingers scrabbling at the button at his waistband. Frustration clouded his chiseled features making Blair suppress a smile.

“Jim – relax,” he chided gently. “Slowly—“ Blair smiled when Jim actually closed his eyes and took a deep breath, stilling his fingers from their fumbling. When those blue eyes opened again, Jim met Blair’s gaze briefly before unbuttoning and then unzipping his trousers smoothly. “Very nice,” Blair murmured. When a blush crept up Jim’s face, Blair knew the Sentinel had his hearing turned up, honing in on his Guide carefully. Knowing that made Blair feel loved and cared for like nothing else could do.

Blair watched Jim shimmy his trousers and briefs over his hips and then sit, pulling the offending garments from his long legs and leaving him bare to Blair’s gaze. His Sentinel was trembling slightly as Blair rolled up onto his side, cradling his head in one hand and patting the bed beside him. “Come here,” he whispered, stifling the chuckle that threatened when Jim scurried to obey.

Once Jim was settled at his side, on his back, arms along his sides, Blair reached out with his free hand and rested it over his Sentinel’s heart, feeling the beat reverberate through the sensitive skin of his palm. If he closed his eyes, he could feel Jim’s blood as it raced through his veins and he knew he was sensing that through their bond. Blair lapped delicately at his lips, watching as Jim’s eyes darkened.

“What do you need?” he asked softly.

“You,” Jim answered promptly. “Only you, my Bonded.”

Blair began to caress Jim’s body, watching every twitch of his skin and feeling each and every surge of lust as it careened through his body. He felt as the need grew in Jim’s blood and knew his own body mirrored that of his Sentinel. Leaning further forward, he pressed his lips to Jim’s, tasting of his Sentinel’s need.

“Don’t move,” he growled as he turned away, fumbling in the bedside table for lube. When he turned back, Jim was lying still in the center of the bed. Blair could feel how carefully he was holding himself and he smiled as he leaned over the Sentinel. “You’re so good, Jim – so good for me.”

“Only you,” Jim relied easily, pulling his knees up to his chest when prodded by Blair’s hands on his thighs.

Blair watched Jim’s face as he probed at his Sentinel’s entrance with a well-lubed finger. A soft sigh sounded as Blair breached Jim’s body and a small smile lit up Jim’s face when Blair added a second and then a third finger, moving them in and out as he gently stretched his lover.

“Blair,” Jim breathed on a soft groan as Blair raked his fingers over Jim’s prostate. “More – in me – please.”

Blair needed no further invitation. He sat back on his heels, lubing his cock with one hand and keeping the other on his Sentinel. Jim’s pupils were blown wide and Blair knew from experience that it wouldn’t take much to send his lover into a full-blown zone at this point. Keeping one hand on him at this point gave Jim a focal point and would keep him from zoning.

As Blair nudged his cock against Jim’s entrance, Jim bit his lip and whimpered softly. “Please—“

Blair smiled and pressed forward, watching his cock disappear inside of Jim, feeling his Sentinel’s body adjust to fit him, and not stopping until he was balls-deep inside. Blair then rested, his groin pressed up tight to Jim’s ass, feeling Jim’s pulse beat against the length of his cock.

“Jim,” he gasped as he began to pump his hips, moving slowly at first, building a rhythm designed to drive his Sentinel to the edge – and hold him there.

Jim’s hands came up and cupped Blair’s ass, urging him onward, his fingers pressing deep. “Blair – need more.”

Blair stilled, looking into his Sentinel’s wild eyes. “You’ll get what I give you,” he reminded his Sentinel. “And what do I always give you?”

Jim’s hands gentled on Blair’s skin. He was no longer pushing Blair for more. His gaze met Blair’s own before dropping away. Blair bit back the groan of arousal Jim’s submission sent soaring through him even as he struggled against the need to just pound into his body.

“Everything I need, my Guide,” Jim answered quietly.

Blair bent forward and bit into the skin just above Jim’s right nipple, dimpling the skin and worrying at it with his teeth for a moment before letting it go and lapping across the heated flesh with the flat of his tongue. Jim’s hiss of pain was merely vindication of the act and when Blair lifted his head again, he saw Jim struggling to hold onto the orgasm that was threatening to end their lovemaking. But Jim had been well-trained in pleasing a Guide long before he was allowed to Bond and Blair watched as he drew on that training now, holding on to his control with everything he had.

When Blair felt Jim crawl back from the razor-sharp edge, he began to fuck him again, this time setting a punishing rhythm – one destined to get them both off quickly. As much as his Sentinel ‘needed’ him – he needed his Sentinel as well. Whether it was a genetic imperative or not, he didn’t know – and right now he didn’t care.

As Blair cleaned Jim’s spend from his chest and stomach, he wondered if Jim felt their bond more deeply as well – or if he had been the only one affected. As Jim shifted on the bed, searching out his warmth even as he slept, Blair thought it was a question for another time. Right now it was time to allow their bond to strengthen and renew after being stressed during their time apart. After tossing the damp cloth onto the pile of discarded clothes at the foot of the bed, he crawled under the covers and pulled Jim into his arms. They were safe if this manifestation was simply a matter of stress because of the separation. And, if it were more; if their bond had developed into a Soul Bond, they would have to be very careful not to let it be discovered. There were no recorded instances of a Soul Bond – only fairy tales. There was no telling what the Guild or the Department of Sentinel Affairs would do with them should it be true. Blair was pretty sure he didn’t want to find out.


End file.
